


Ghost Hunt

by dragon_hoard



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Law Enforcement, M/M, Murder Mystery, Nonbinary Akaashi Keiji, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-17 16:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5877883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_hoard/pseuds/dragon_hoard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>cop au. a seemingly regular crime ends up linking to something personal and the devil's shadow comes back from the past</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Duty Calls

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I have no experience with the law or criminal activities lol. I based this off imagination and binge watching Law&Order

A jazzy tune screamed into the dark room. Phone speakers made the notes shrill, and having it set as the alarm automatically made Kuroo hate it the first time it successfully woke him up. He briefly considered tossing his phone hard enough at the wall to break it. Vetoed the idea. And then thought it over again as the tone restarted.

A groan from the left made Kuroo’s decision for him.

He yanked his head out from under the pillows and patted around on the bedside table for his phone which was supposed to be there. But his hand came in contact with nothing but the lamp. Kuroo finally peeled his eyes open.

A hand slapped Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Turn it off,” Kenma groaned.

“Le'me f'nd it f'rst,” Kuroo mumbled. He flicked the lamps switch and Kenma moaned in despair. “Now where in hell–” He leaned over the side of the bed and spotted the offending piece of tech on the floor. “There you are.”

He snatched up the phone, dismissed the alarm, and dropped it on the table where it was supposed to be. Kuroo swung his legs out and got up to get ready.

Kenma hadn’t moved.

Fifteen minutes later and Kuroo was completely set to go.

Kenma still hadn’t moved.

“Kenmaaaaaaa,” Kuroo crowed. He grabbed the edge of the covers and flung it to the other side of the bed, revealing the small blond curled on his side underneath. “Its time to get up.”

Kenma squinted up at him, still not moving. The engine was warming up and the gears weren’t ready to shift into drive yet.

“Ugh,” was Kuroo’s only reply. He rolled his eyes and grabbed Kenma’s wrists to physically pull him out of bed, dragging slowly enough that it was more like a slide from the sheets to the floor. Kenma lay completely limp.

I wonder if this is what it would be like to drag a dead body, Kuroo briefly wondered. He deposited Kenma on the rug in the middle of the floor and straightened.

“You’ve got half an hour,” he said. Kenma gave the perfect imitation of a dead fish.

Kuroo left to go turn on the news and wait.

A loud groan followed his exit.

He ignored it.

Twenty-five minutes later he hears Kenma shuffle out, ready. He turns and sees him digging in the fridge, still squinting in his annoyance at being woken.

“Our moms are going to be feeding us.”

Kenma grunts. “Yeah, I know.” Kuroo goes back to the news.

-

Kenma’s not a morning person. He’s definitely not a morning person. But he knows the consequences of disobeying a ‘request’ of their mothers’. He closed the fridge and headed for the door, saying “alright” when Kuroo looked at him. Kuroo turned of the tv and got up to join him at the entrance to slip their shoes on.

The walk down to the garage was quiet. Most of the entire hour and a half drive was quiet, soft music and traffic the only background noise.

Kenma was not a morning person. He ate his granola bar and zoned out at the window and that was it. Talking took at least an hour warmup time. Kuroo knew this.

Eventually he pulled out his phone to check the news and his social media while Kuroo nodded along to the radio. Nothing relevant or all that interesting.

“Anything new?” Kuroo asked.

“Nope.”

“Text our moms and tell them we’ll be there soon.”

“Okay.” Kenma did as asked and his phone blinked at him a short time later, a simple “k” received as a reply from his mother.

Kenma rolled his eyes.

Twenty minutes later they were pulling into an apartment complex and searching for a parking spot. They went around in circles, each spot taken, and just when Kuroo thinks he might see a free one it turns out to be a smaller car eclipsed by its neighbor. And then they would circle again. And again. Kenma was tempted to just get out and leave Kuroo to his fate.

They ended up parking in the street two blocks away.

The elevator in the apartment building was working though. A short trip to the fifth floor and three doors to the left, and they were finally at their mothers’ shared apartment.

Kozume Risa and Kuroo Akame had attended college together, literally running into each other during one of the nursing courses. They decided to work in the same hospital and lived together for a time. Risa eventually got married and moved out but they kept a tight friendship. A few years later Kuroo Tetsurou was born and, when asked who the father was, Akame simply shrugged and said nothing. She remained a single mother. Kenma was brought into the Kozume household six years later.

After the passing of Kenma’s father and the boys’ moving out, they had decided to live together once again. Almost two hours away and at the fringes of the city.

Kuroo knocked while turning the handle, letting himself in.

“Mom,” he called, “we’re here.”

“We’re in the kitchen,” Akame called back from inside. They slipped their shoes off and Kuroo padded down the hallway quickly, his eyes a little wide. Kenma was slower to follow.

“Please tell me you’re not cooking.”

A squawk and the smack of a dish towel against a head. “I take offense to that!”

Kenma peeked around the kitchen doorway. his mother was leaning against the counter, her arms crossed, and watching the Kuroo mother-son spectacle with amusement. Kenma went to stand by her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

“You should take offense, your cooking is the most atrocious thing I’ve ever eaten. Its nothing personal mom, you just have a natural talent for ruining food when its being prepared.”

Kuroo dodged the towel this time.

“Hold still, Tetsu.”

“No friggin way, you could take someones head off with that!”

“I mean to!”

“You would murder your own son?” He spread his hands pleadingly and yelped when he dodged at the last second. The towel snapped in the air with force.

“I absolutely will if my son-” snap “-wont-” snap “-stand-” snap “-STILL! Stop moving!”

Kuroo had been circling his mother, dodging the homemade whip by a hair’s breadth. The last one got too close and Kuroo dropped to the ground with an “oh shit.” The towel slapped someone in the face, someone the hit wasn’t intended for.

The silence in the kitchen was deafening as Kozume Risa slowly opened her eyes, her cheek stinging.

Kuroo muttered a helpful, “uh.” Akame covered her mouth in horror. Kenma had stepped to the side to avoid the hit, and he knew it hadn’t missed his mothers notice. He avoided looking her in the face.

The oven beeped in the silence.

Risa was the only one to move, pulling out oven mitts and sliding the tray from the oven to the stove top. Three sets of eyes followed her in apprehension.

All she said was a quiet “out” and everyone booked it to the sitting room.

Kenma heard Kuroo and Akame whisper “I blame you” to each other and rolled his eyes.

Ten minutes into a horrible game show and Kenma pulled out his phone, checking for messages. Two from Shouyo, five from Lev, and one from Yachi asking how to change an application regarding site scans. He was typing out quick replies to Lev and Shouyo - Yachi would need a phone call - when his mother called that it was time to eat.

Lunch was good, and they had a rule that there would be no electronics at family meals so they all stacked their phones in the middle of the table. Kenma deliberately ignored the pleading beeps of his phone and focused on his food.

And then Kuroo’s phone started signing the x-files theme. The talking stopped instantly and everyone looked at Kuroo. His was staring intently at his phone. He sighed and grabbed it from the pile, looking to his mother.

She rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively, giving permission.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he answered, “what’s up?” Kenma watched his face, saw how it stilled before he got up and went down the hallway, talking lowly into the phone.

They quietly kept eating until Kuroo came back. Kenma met his eyes and he sighed. He got up and pulled his phone from the pile, leaving it half as tall as it was minutes ago.

Their mothers got up as well, Akame going over to slap Kuroo on the back. Risa went to the kitchen and came back with plastic containers that she started forking food into. Kuroo gave them a guilty look. Akame scoffed.

“Don’t give me that look, you baby. We’re nurses; we know what ‘on call’ means.”

“I know.”

“Then don’t look like that.” Kuroo sighed.

“You’re taking this food. It sounds like you’re going to need prepared meals for a while.”

They packed up and shuffled to the doorway, their mothers seeing them out.

Kuroo sighed again and Kenma kicked his shin.

~

Kuroo ducked under the yellow tape, holding it up behind him for Kenma. Police cars surrounded the area to help block off onlookers. Kenma pulled his hood up.

The crime scene was down a side alley, the only entrance where they were standing and the other side blocked by another building. One door to the left, a back exit from a pachinko parlor. A dumpster along the back wall, five full trash bags piled to its right. The body was shoved halfway behind the dumpster and what was left seen, its legs, was covered by the bags. Or should have been covered.

Daichi stood with his hands in his pockets, surveying what he could see. He raised an arm in greeting when he spotted Kuroo.

“At your moms, right? Too bad about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Kuroo shrugged.

“What have we got?”

“Male, looks like maybe mid thirties, shot in the back twice. From the blood we can assume he was standing right over there.”

“The back? That’s odd.” He glanced at Kenma, but he wasn’t looking forward. He was looking up. Kuroo followed his line of sight and spotted the security camera aimed at the alleyway entrance. “You want to go check that out?”

Kenma nodded and started heading towards the pachinko parlor front entrance.

“From the way its pointed we can get a picture of our perp but we won’t know what our victim was doing here,” Daichi said. “He wasn’t facing the entrance.”

They positioned themselves to face the way he had.

“He got shot in front of the dumpster,” Kuroo said, looking to Daichi for confirmation. A nod. “And he doesn't smell like alcohol so I’m going to assume he was sober at the time of the shooting.”

Daichi scratched his chin. “Searching for something? Maybe tossing something.”

Kuroo tipped his head back and then he finally noticed his lucky ticket.

“Maybe dropping something off,” he said, grinning. “What’s the building on the other side?”

“A grocery store.”

“Come find me?”

Daichi nodded and headed out while Kuroo scrambled on top of the dumpster.

About head height, while up there, was a small window opening. It had been presumedly boarded up but when Kuroo pushed on it hinges creaked, and the bottom lifted up. It was too small for a large man but someone Kenma’s size could fit, albeit tightly. Or a package.

It looked to be the storage, large latex wrapped boxes and a chill throughout the room.

Kuroo could hear an argument nearing and the next second Daichi was shoving the door open, a pale-faced employee behind him. They grinned at each other.


	2. Proceedings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry short chapter

“You just have to tell us what was in the package and where it was coming from,” Daichi said. He was seated at the metal table, posture relaxed, hands folded in his lap.

The store manager was seated on the other side. He sat hunched in on himself and stared hard at the tabletop.

“I want a deal,” he muttered.

Kuroo, who was currently leaning against the wall behind the man, scoffed. He pushed off and came to sit next to him, leaning in his space.

“You want a deal,” he said lowly, “when your provider was found shot dead right outside the delivery drop.” The manager jerked his head, surprised. “Yeah, we know about your habits.”

Daichi nodded at the closed folder on the table. “Three counts of drug possession and one of selling illegal substances. Its going to be a lot longer in prison on accessory to murder charges.”

The manager choked. He looked into Daichi’s eyes, calculating his chances, before glancing over at Kuroo. They both looked back expectantly. The man swallowed.

“I have no idea why he got shot. Honest! It was just his bi-weekly drop, nothing special.”

“That’s not all, is it?” Kuroo growled. “What else aren’t you telling us.” The manager shrank away from him.

“He- he said that his source was some gang,” he stuttered.

“Which gang?”

“I don’t know! He just said that he got shunted down the job ladder or something. That this job was shit but his last job was worse even though it was more important. This one has easier merch or something. That’s all I know, I swear!”

Kuroo leaned back and both detectives stood. Daichi nodded at the store manager.

“Someone will be in soon to process you out,” he said. The door closed behind them, and then the lock clicked.

Kenma was waiting for them in the hall, tapping at his phone. He looked up at their exit.

“Anything?” he asked.

“Gang connections apparently,” Daichi answered.

“Well, that explains it.” They both raised their eyebrows. “We found a bit of something.” He gestured for them to follow him.

A short trek across the building and down a flight of stairs and they were at the tech lab. With a medium sized room with one whole wall dedicated to a large screen, a few tables littered with tablets, laptops, and various other connective devices, and the floor-to-ceiling see through touch screen drawing board, it was easy to see the tech department took a large portion of funds during setup. The lab largely generated two opinions: over excessive or downright cool. Daichi was of the former.

Yachi waved a hello while Yamaguchi nodded.

Kenma snagged a tablet off one of the tables and sat himself down, pulling his feet underneath his body. He tapped the device and a grainy black-and-white image appeared on the wall screen.

Kenma played the video without comment.

It was obvious the shot was of the entrance to the alleyway beside the pachinko parlor. He sped through the daily routine view of the street until the timestamp read around two in the morning.

The victim turned the corner into the alley, a box tucked under his arm. He quickly passed the camera’s view. A minute later a second man turned the corner. He wore a large coat with the hood up, making his face indistinguishable from the shadows. He drew a gun from an inside pocket and aimed at the victim. Daichi thought it was strange to see a gun shoot without hearing it. Off and unrealistic. The killer quickly tucked the gun back in his pocket and went to the body. Five minutes later he returned with the box and slipped around the corner.

Kenma paused the video. He rewound back to twenty minutes before the shooting.

“So Yachi noticed that this car-” Kenma made a circle on the tablet and it appeared on the wall screen seconds later, “came before the murder and then left” he fast forwarded, “five minutes after. No one got out that entire time.”

Daichi and Kuroo glanced at each other.

“Someone wanted to make sure it got done properly,” Daichi hummed.

“The car is unmarked with no license plates.”

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t stolen,” Kuroo said. Kenma gave him an unimpressed look.

“I doubt it but Yachi is already checking.”

“Nothing yet,” she called from her desk.

Kenma’s phone beeped quietly. He silently checked it. “Tooru says they’re ready for you.”

“Alright, thanks.” Daichi had the instinctive urge to pat Kenma on the back but he refrained for the others obvious discomfort with physical contact.

Kuroo leaned down to speak lowly to Kenma and when he nodded the pair of detectives headed out for the forensics lab.

“What was that?” Daichi asked.

“Hmm? Oh, we were deciding on takeout. Gotta make sure he remembers to eat, you know.” Kuroo shrugged.

“I can ask Suga if he’d be willing to bring some in.”

“That’d be fantastic.” Daichi nodded and sent a quick text.

~

“Well, we tried our victims DNA and he was in the system,” Oikawa said, handing a folder to Daichi. He looked it over while Kuroo wandered over to check out the body on the table. Daichi read it to him while he perused.

“Kumagawa Takairo, age thirty-eight, he’s got one count of larceny, one count of drug possession, and three counts of assault on his record. It says he’s affiliated with the Nekoma gang.” Daichi looked up for confirmation and Oikawa nodded.

He went to stand on the opposite side of Kuroo and flipped the sheet down. The body of Kumagawa lay on its front, showcasing the two bullet wounds, an array of little scars, and a spread of tattoos. Oikawa pointed at a specific one, an outline of a large cat with a spider web of what looked like cracked glass detailed into the skin. The tail curled around the entire image, much in the same aspect of the @ symbol.

“This is their member seal,” he said. “Notice the color.” Kuroo squinted.

“Its blue. Isn’t Nekoma known for only putting colors on their more important members?” He looked over at Daichi and got a distracted nod.

“Black is the most common; anyone with a membership can get it at some point. Grunts mostly. Blue is for the managers and organizers. Green is the generals and their families. And its just a rumor, but I’ve heard that the head and the heir, or their favored ones, have it in red.”

“If he’s important enough to have blue what’s he doing transporting drugs?”

Oikawa cleared his throat. When they turned to look at him he raised his eyebrows. “If I may continue?” They nodded. “He was killed with a .45 caliber gun. Not as rare a weapon as you’d think considering the accuracy in where he was shot. The first bullet almost severed his spine in half. The second was just insurance, in my opinion.”

“A professional hit?”

“Most likely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a review if you want or come @ me on tumblr I'm Meredith dragon-hoard


	3. Living is just a distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more clues and a surprise visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you haven't quite noticed yet I'm making this in the style of Law&Order with scenes pertinent to the case or their personal lives

“He wasnt a -bad- tenant per se,” the superintendent said. She dug in her pocket for the master key ring and began sorting through the collection. “Mostly paid his rent on time, but he was in at odd hours. Would leave late at night and not come back for a couple days. And he had people over often, even when he wasn’t in. Most of them wouldn’t know respect if it kicked ‘em in the head.” She found the correct key with a satisfied snort and inserted it in the lock.

“What kind of people?” Kuroo ducked his head to meet her eyes. All she gave him was an annoyed glance.

“Thugs or addicts. Either loud as hell or deathly quiet. Scared the neighbors into tracking Kumagawa’s comings and goings.” She pushed the door open and Kuroo and Daichi followed her inside. “Any sort of complaint he got was always when he wasn’t even here. I’ll leave you to it then?” Daichi nodded.

“Yes, thank you for your time and assistance.”

The apartment was small and dingy; cheap. Just two rooms, a bathroom, and a kitchenette. Barely any furniture, just a mattress on the floor for a bed, a small tv, and a few large cushions instead of chairs. A coffee table. That was it. It seemed strangely orderly despite the desolation. Straight lines pressed together and everything in its exact place. Kumagawa was apparently compulsive.

They donned latex gloves and scoured the place. Not much turned up. Except a small bag of ecstasy squirreled away in the top corner of the closet. And a silver, engraved switchblade popped out of the false bottom of the tv.

“Congratulatory gift maybe?” Kuroo asked. He gripped the end between two fingers, careful not to smudge any potential finger prints, and pointed it in the air. From an outside view the hold looked careless.

Daichi popped his head out of the bathroom and came over to look with interest. “Its got the crest.” He brought his own hands into view. “I found his cell phone in the garbage can, under the bag. And what looks like stolen jewelry in a pill bottle.” He rattled it. “I don’t judge, but he didn’t seem the type. No piercings or metal on him.”

Kuroo whistled. “Damn, this guy got around. Why wouldn’t he take his phone with him though? A man like him needs to be in control, and that means always on top of everything.”

“Can’t do that if you can’t be contacted.”

“Exactly.”

A phone began to ring and they both immediately looked to Kumagawa’s. It wasn’t his though so Kuroo dug in his pocket and pulled his out.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he answered.

“Kuroo-san, this is Akaashi. I have something for you.”

~

The morgue is always as cold as balls, Kuroo thought as he pushed the entrance open. He wrapped his arms around himself and pushed up against Daichi in an attempt the siphon off some warmth. Daichi just shoved him away. 

“My partner doesn’t love me,” he lamented.

Daichi snorted. “Not enough to let you leech my heat,” he replied.

Kuroo groaned.

Akaashi poked their head out of a door down the hall. They leveled the both of them with a disciplining stare, and the detectives shifted sheepishly like they were five again.

"Sawamura-san,“ they said, forgoing a greeting, "Kuroo-san. You’re disturbing the quiet.” Akaashi motioned for them to join them in the room.

Daichi coughed into a fist and they hurried down the hall.

“So, what’s up?” he asked as he got to the door. Kuroo shuffled in in front of him.

“I put out a search on the tattoo for the past six months,” Akaashi said. They walked to the line of lockers and opened one, slid the table out. They flipped the cover sheet over, revealing the face and bust of a woman. She had the Nekoma seal above her right breast, along her collarbone. It was blue.

Daichi tsked. “Another one.”

“We assumed she died of drug overdose,” Akaashi murmured. “But your recent victim has put that in a suspicious light. She has marks of habitual use and all the signs of an addict. Her body was found in her apartment’s bathroom three weeks ago. Here’s what we have on her.” They handed a folder to Daichi.

He flipped through it while Kuroo asked, “Any other tattoos?”

Akaashi shook their head. “No tattoos, but she has a boggling amount of scars and cigarette burns. They definitely aren’t self-inflicted - she wouldn’t be able to physically reach half of where they are. My guess is abuse. They don’t look controlled enough to be consensual.” Akaashi looked away for a second, thoughtful. “Though there is this burn scar here on her neck. Its old - very old. Probably from when she was a child.” They pointed. “We thought it was just another mark but now that I look it seems more like a brand.”

Kuroo squinted at it. The mark was perfectly circular and… vaguely familiar? Like he had seen the same lines of smooth pink skin somewhere long ago. Or he had seen it but never really paid it enough attention to actually soak it in.

Daichi noticed his intense stare and raised a questioning brow. Kuroo simply shrugged in response.

“Is there a picture of this in the report?” He asked Akaashi. They nodded.

~

They came back to Sugawara and Kenma eating take out at his desk, along with Bokuto.

“Hey man!” he called around a mouthful of noodles, spitting just enough that Kenma dodged to the side with a face that says he regrets sitting opposite Bokuto. “Akaashi told me you were on your way back. I saved your food from Tanaka, he was trying to sneak it away.”

Suga smiled in greeting and offered Daichi his unopened food container. He took it gratefully and sat down next to him.

Kuroo dramatically spread his arms open while Bokuto tossed his food onto the table, rising to bro it out. A passing-by Ennoshita quickly dodged an outspread hand accidentally flung in front of his face. They embraced to a nonexistent chorus and a rising crescendo.

“Dude!” he crowed. “You are my best bro! I knew you would always help me out.”

Kenma rolled his eyes.

The duo shuffled over to the table, still stuck to each others side, and dug in. They chat, loudly, and Suga offered them napkins with a grimace.

Kenma ate quietly. He navigated his phone with one hand and ate with the other, just silently listening in to the talk around him.

Just as they were finishing up the food a movement by the entrance caught Kuroo’s eye. A guard was motioning him over, a slick looking man in an expensive gray suit standing to his left. Kuroo stood. He noticed the man was staring at their table with a strange intensity and shifted his gait to block his view on the way over. The mans gaze made his skin prickle and he wasn’t even the recipient.

“Can I help you,” he asked, plastering on his fake smirk. The man snapped his eyes to him. And then he smiled at Kuroo, beautific, and offered out a hand that Kuroo had to shake.

“I’m Yagami Akira, its nice to meet you.

"I represent the Nekoma family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm s o sorry I didn't know what to name him. come @ me on tumblr I'm Meredith dragon-hoard


	4. Stagnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things hit a wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im s o sorry fire emblem fates came out and it completely dominated my mind. some fluff and i promise the next chap will be longer it just kinda stalled from me gaming too much

“I’m here because it has come to our attention that an employee of ours was killed recently. A terrible event, and we offer our full cooperation in the hopes of closing this case. I’ve brought all the paperwork concerning him and his part in our company. I assume you’ve realized that what he may have done in his own time has nothing to do with us, correct? Good. Here is my business card, and, please, don’t hesitate to contact me if you need anything we can provide.”

Kuroo sat at his desk now, going through those papers. He’s a quarter way through and from what he’s seen this is a useless waste of trees. Simply a record of the ‘official’ transportations he’s done of goods.

The man bothered him. Kuroo had checked his background; no record and, other than the jabs of rival lawyers, no dirt on his reputation. His mother had married a member of the Nekoma group when he was in middle school and when she came down with cancer, the group had taken interest and paid for her medical costs. A simple story of gratitude to unlikely saviors. Or so it seems. Kuroo thinks maybe it was that simple at the beginning.

Word had come back from Kenma two hours ago about how the phone was a dead end. All Kumagawa had in his contacts was his coworkers. Then they had taken it apart and found a tracker, which explains why he had left his phone behind to do the drop. He knew he was being targeted, at the least followed.

The only lead they had at the moment was the member seal but Yagami had barred the way by offering up everything they had that officially connected them to Kumagawa. The full cooperation of Nekoma was actually a pain in the ass.

Kuroo dug back into the stacks of paper.

~

“Shouldn’t you be teaching the new kids,” Kuroo asks with a smirk in his voice. He’s leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, and Kenma glances at him briefly in acknowledgement before returning to his game.

“I am,” he says, nodding to the other side of the room. “They have work.” Kuroo can see Yachi at her desk with her laptop. From the looks of it she was quietly engrossed but when he pushed off and went to check she was asleep. With her chin propped up by her hand and her eyes closed peacefully, Kuroo just didn’t have the heart to wake her. Kenma was supposed to teach her slowly but some recent case was forcing her to learn fast and on the fly as stand-in tech specialist. As far as he knew they had been holed up in the lab for three days, poring over every available information.

“Not if she’s asleep you’re not,” Kuroo said, actually grinning this time. Kenma looked up to check for himself.

“Oh,” he muttered. He paused his game, closed it, and put it on the desk next to him. Kenma rubbed his eyes, hands fisted, and pushed his legs out in front of himself, stretching. Kuroo thought he looked like a cat when he stuck his arms out as well. Kenma made a little sound like “hhhnnnggg” as he let the blood flow again.

“You should go home and get some sleep,” Kuroo said as Kenma blinked dazedly at the floor. “I’m sending everyone on the case back for tonight.”

“Hmm.” Kenma watched the ground, considering, and then flicked his gaze from the tiles to meet Kuroo’s. Kuroo knew he could see the purplish bags under his eyes and he flinched a little at the disapproval apparent in Kenma’s face. “I will if you will.”

They stared at each other, both resolute but tired, until eventually Kuroo sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“You know I can’t leave for long,” he said. Kenma grunted in response.

“Long enough to sleep.” Kuroo quirked an eyebrow but didn’t argue. Kenma almost always comes out the winner anyways.

He dropped a hand on Yachi’s shoulder, just heavily enough to wake her up. She startled and her chin slipped out of her palm. She would have face-planted back into awareness if Kuroo hadn’t tightened his grip and held her steady. Once she was fine he let go and went to stand by Kenma.

“Go home kid. And take your girlfriend with you, I can’t get her to budge from her desk.” Yachi nodded sleepily before snapping her head up with a squawk and a blush. Kuroo offered to help Kenma get up. Kenma took the proffered hand with an eye roll.

“We aren’t dating!”

“Sure, sure.” He slung Kenma’s backpack over his shoulder and, grabbing Kenma’s game, he started ushering the smaller boy out the door, propelling him forward with a hand on his back.

“Kuroo!” Yachi wailed.

“I didn’t disagree with you,” he called back from the hallway, out of her sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap gets to the serious biz lol

**Author's Note:**

> come @ me on tumblr I'm Meredith dragon-hoard


End file.
